In Your Arms My Thoughts Fade Away
by watcher-ofthe-sky
Summary: They are closer but he knows he is pushing them apart. But for how long can they keep this up when they find themselves wrapped in each other's arms? Pairing: Jellal x Erik (Jerik), mentioned Erzajane


**Pairing: Jellal x Erik (Jerik)**

**[A/N]:** Horrible summary, I know. For oceanwaves-blog on Tumblr. She asked for cuddles and Jerik. But it's me. I cannot write this ship without angst because both of them are made up of it. Erik is probably OOC because he isn't much snarky here.

Nothing new, actually. Just nightmares and Jellal being edgy and pushy and emo.

You'll get cuddles, yes.

* * *

They're setting up the gear when Macbeth looked up from peeling the potato, catching Erik stealing a glance at the blue haired man who was collecting woods nearby.

It's so obvious, he thought. The way they look at each other when they think the other doesn't know. _Heck_, sometimes even when the other knows. He sighed and asked, his voice bringing up the amusement, "Why don't you two work it up?"

Erik looked at him, a little startled that he didn't hear the man's thoughts, but soon overcame because this was happening a lot lately whenever he was busy looking at that certain person.

"He has…issues," he replied, as he came back to this task of skinning the carrots. There was no hiding this _thing_ that he apparently had for Jellal. He knew that the whole team knows.

Macbeth only gave him a disapproving tired look before picking another potato.

…

"I don't think looking at him longingly will hypnotise him to come to you," Sorano commented as she picked up another stick.

Jellal flushed slightly at having been caught. He ignored the snide remark and resumed his task.

"He is good looking, isn't he?"

Jellal only gave her a flat look in return, evidently tired of all the comments that had become frequent recently.

"Hopeless boys," Sorano muttered under her breath.

…

It was dinner time. Sawyer had been telling a story about a wyvern which turned to Richard telling a story about a pig. Jellal was sure that he had missed something in between.

The bonfire was lit, and they had been sitting around it. The sparks lit their faces as they rose from the fire. Jellal dared to look up at one of them—the one with maroon hair and wine-coloured eye. He saw the tanned skin glowing under this golden light, a serene smile playing on his lips. He felt himself getting dizzy on this feeling; slightly loosening up with it.

And this was bad—him losing control over himself, over his mind. A sudden panic washed within him, and he got up from his seat.

"I'll excuse myself to bed now."

The guild members nodded and went back to listening to Sorano's tale about her first boyfriend.

Erik looked up from the group, saw Jellal's retreating figure, with his shoulders slumped down, his body closing within himself.

…

It was Meredy's and Erik's turn to wash the dishes. They sat by the river, cleaning up the plates when Erik finally spoke, "You might as well speak and ease your mind. It's getting annoying to hear your incoherent monologue."

The pink haired girl dried up the last set and put it down. In the moonlight, The Dragon Slayer saw her features softening, calming down. They sat in the silence for a long time, hearing the flow of water before she said, "I just want to know what you will do if and when he wants you to stay."

Erik felt himself drying up at this unexpected question. He looked at the girl beside her with a muted expression. When she met his gaze, he saw in her eyes a sense of protectiveness. It's given, he thought. He is like a brother to her, after all. But along with that, there was this feeling of _knowing_; something which he doesn't know himself yet.

She gave a kind smile and stood up, giving a final press on his shoulder and said, "Think about it, Erik."

He sat there, by the river, watching the pearls of moonlight dance on it. He closed his eye and inhaled the deep scents of everything around him and relaxed in them. His mind wandered to the place where he usually goes to seek comfort. An image of blue hair flashed before him. Jellal was standing in front of him, his eyes crinkling with laughter. He was good looking, okay.

You like him, don't you? His mind supplied.

I don't know. Yes, but it feels more or something than that, he found himself replying.

More, more, _more,_ he couldn't place a finger on it. Some other day, he thought, I'll find the right answer.

He thought about Meredy's words.

_Stay._

How foreign the word sounded on his tongue? What does he, the one who has been running, hiding, fighting almost all his life, knew about staying?

But this staying was more than making a home out of bricks and living. This was living in hearts. This was being _there_ when one wants you to. He thought about his guild members who had been there by his side all these years.

Maybe this a staying of which I know something about, he thought.

Heavy, dark clouds started gathering in the sky. A cool breeze swayed through his hair.

Erza, he found himself thinking.

This was something else Meredy was talking about or had indirectly mentioned. Jellal loved her, no denying that. Yes, _loved_, he thought. If them meeting her once during a mission with Mirajane by her side, holding her hand and Jellal talking to Erza, happy and nodding in approval was any indication.

He had loved her with all his heart, but he could never bring himself to ask her to stay. He wanted her happy, which apparently, he thought was possible when she was not with him.

He wouldn't ever ask anyone to _stay_, he thought.

No, he'll not. But he'll want it. He'll need it, his mind replied.

All this is so fucking complicated, he groaned. But it was too late for him to back down. He was deeply buried in his feeling for this man. He wasn't even wishing for otherwise.

Something is definitely wrong with me, he thought.

He finally got up; all of this was way too heavy to deal right now. He'll deal with it later.

Or so he thought.

…

Jellal woke up from another nightmare, his shirt drenched in sweat. It was Ultear tonight, in his dream. Her small soft and kind. They were in a large dark room with clocks ticking loudly.

_My time has come, she whispered._

_No! Wait! He shouted as he saw her silky black hair turning to grey, her face now devoid of colour._

_You're free now, Jellal. Free. Don't lock your mind in these chambers._

And suddenly, she was gone. Engulfed by this darkness.

He took deep breathes, trying to calm himself down. Outside, the pattering of rain could be heard. He turned back sharply as he heard the loud zip and saw Erik hesitantly entering in.

"I-uh, I just came to take my bedding," he said, entering his full length.

They both knew that they had been avoiding sleeping next to the other. The answer was obvious to both. They usually took turns sleeping outside and if the weather demanded otherwise, they slept with other teammates.

But tonight, everyone had already tucked themselves in and that left only them to share a tent. You could almost hear the mocking laughter in the thunder that roared.

"It's raining outside," Jellal said, his voice hoarse and thick from sleep.

"Not a bother."

"Sleep here."

Erik turned to look at him, unsure whether he heard the right words.

Jellal inhaled sharply, still trying to steady himself from the trembling. "It's going to be a heavy downpour. Sleep here. It's fine."

Although he didn't know if it really would be in a whole other way. They both were aware of their feelings.

It all started with stolen, longing glances at each other and getting caught by the other; leaning against the shoulder when sharing a bed in the inn. Even brushing of fingers sent sparks between them and once when no one was looking, Jellal unconsciously interlocked their fingers and Erik pressed them tighter in return.

But then it hit Jellal what he was doing. He was letting himself enjoy the warmth it was bringing.

And he did not deserve that.

He was letting himself flow in the feeling.

And he cannot do that.

He cannot lose control over himself; cannot expose himself to this vulnerability which demands openness.

And therefore, he isolated himself, maintained the distance which was _necessary _for him. For both of them.

Jellal thought that Erik took the sign and did not nudge in. Maybe he was too afraid to cross boundaries. Too afraid to get only coldness in return of everything. Jellal thought he can swallow up his damn feelings and never think of them again. Until everything became too hard.

And Erik didn't actually step away. It was only him walking farther and farther from him.

Erik unfolded the bedding and lay down on top of it. "Don't worry," his voice bitter for some reason, "I don't sleep anyway, due to the sounds and everything."

Jellal only nodded before he lay down too and closed his eyes, again dreaming of darkness.

…

Erik stared at the ceiling of the tent, arms behind his head. He could hear the uneven breathing of the man beside him, his heart beating rapidly. He turned his attention toward him when he heard low painful whimpering, Jellal's expressions folding into fear and suddenly he jerked, sitting right up. His body was shaking.

"Are you okay?" Erik asked, softly.

Jellal jolted, not remembering his surrounding in the blur of everything.

"It's me," Erik said, quietly, not trying to scare the man more.

He heard Jellal's breathing even out just a bit, his shoulders relaxing a little. They lay there like that, in silence and darkness, tired and yet not being able to sleep.

"Do…do you want me to…hold you?" Jellal could hear the hesitation in his voice. "It…helps. Sometimes Midnight used to do that to me wh-when we were young, and we had nightmares."

It was true but it was something that they used to do a long time ago and it surprised Erik that he still remembered it.

Jellal couldn't stop the shuddering of his body but he blamed it on the cold due to the rain. Panic was still rushing in him and so, in a croaked voice, he whispered, "Okay."

They moved their bedding closer, and Jellal turned over on his side. Erik slowly moved toward him, his chest pressing to Jellal's back, his arm over his shoulder and hand on his chest.

"Is this okay?" he whispered.

Jellal gave a low, whimpering affirmation.

…

At first, neither of them slept. They both were very aware of each other's presence, especially Jellal. He could feel the weight of Erik's arm on his chest and shoulder, the way his breath was hovering over his neck, their bodies pressing together. He thought about this man who had fought with him by his side, strong and firm and solid. The way sweat slicked his dark maroon hair on his forehead. The way he smirked almost viciously at his enemies before fighting them. His bronze skin that glowed in the sunlight.

Glorious, he thought.

His kind smile which Jellal wondered whether the man knew he even had. The way he was still there even after his persistent pushing.

Eventually, he found himself relaxing a bit, his shoulders slouching and the tiredness getting the better of him. He let his mind wander.

Which was a huge mistake.

Because somehow, he had let down his mental walls.

He tried to sleep when again darkness took over him and mages flared. Dark, painful memories pouring out on their own accord: him in the tower, wishing, hoping to go out of that horrible place. Getting beaten and slaved through hours; him waking up from dizziness, Ultear's spell weakening for a few moments, the realisation of all the deaths and horrors he had done. The guilt washing over him, drowning him.

He heard a low, very quiet sob when suddenly his eyes jerked open. He didn't know when he had turned himself over on his other side and was now facing Erik whose long dark eyelashes were glistening with unshed tears, shoulders shaking lightly.

Jellal took a moment to inhale and remind himself to breathe. He placed a gentle hand on Erik's cheek, "Hey. Are you alright?"

Erik looked shocked when he opened his eyes, clearly not expecting Jellal facing him like this. He stopped his trembling altogether. "Yeah, it's… yes." And then in a soft whisper, he looked at Jellal and added, "I-I'm sorry."

Jellal didn't know when his eyes had started tearing and before he could ask, "for what?" he realised what he had done.

…

Erik could see the panic and horror rippling on Jellal's face, his mental walls going up at an instance. He could see Jellal recoiling, closing in within himself like he always does. Fear rushed in Erik when he felt the other mage going away from him even though he was still in his arms, their faces only a few inches apart.

He will go away now because of me, I had done this, he thought.

But Jellal surprised him by giving a watery smile. He gulped, as if preparing himself and said, "I am sorry you had to see that."

It was gruesome and horrifying, yes. Erik had an imagination before but to see all that vivid and clear like this was too much even for him.

"I…" Jellal gave a dark chuckle. "I have learned to detach my emotions from my memories to some extent, and so it wasn't _that_ upsetting to me anymore. But I can imagine your state. Am sorry."

"Don't apologise," Erik said. "Please."

Jellal's expressions folded into something like confusion, as if out of all this, _this_ is not something which he was expecting.

Erik ran a hand along his spine, drawing slow circles on Jellal's back, gently running a hand at his neck and pressing it.

…

Jellal wasn't able to comprehend what Erik had said. He didn't know what not apologising is like. His life was a big mistake, after all. He deserved all the pain that came with it. Someone telling him not be sorry was something he couldn't take in.

Erik was running a hand through his back, his wine eye staring his face. Jellal saw that they didn't hold pity in them like most people, rather they had empathy, understanding. Unwavering determination.

He knew that he had pushed the dragon slayer away from him and therefore, Erik held a hesitation in his touch; wasn't sure what was okay with him and didn't instigate.

Jellal shifted closer in Erik's embrace and leaned in the touch. Soon the other man's fingers were threaded in his hair and Jellal wrapped his arms around Erik, his hold tighter.

Suddenly, all his senses were burning alive. He was aware of their breathing, the touch of their hands on each other's back, their chest pressing together. He could explode right now, he thought. The intimacy and vulnerability tearing and building him back.

I am losing my mind, and this is bad, he thought. This is bad because I don't deserve this. Ultear's words echoed in his mind:

_You're free now, Jellal. Free. Don't lock your mind in these chambers._

I need to, I need to, I need to, he chanted back.

But Erik's fingers tenderly running through his hair, his grip around him called him back before he could fall in deep whirls of his loathe—the path which was well known to him.

Their hearts had been hardened with time but still, there was softness in them. And he was so close at reaching it. He remembered Erza's eyes glowing at him, her hands clasped with Mirjane's. It had been good to see her happy, like a weight lifting off Jellal's shoulders. It didn't sting like he imagined it would. He was _happy for her._ And it was enough. For everyone.

Jellal slowly looked up, Erik's gaze piercing right through his heart. Now there was this man before him who wasn't faltering with the weight of both of them on him.

_Don't do this to him_, a voice called. He didn't know if it was of Erza or Ultear or worse, his own.

Their faces were only an inch apart and Jellal inhaled sharply before slowly closing the distance between them. Erik looked stunned for a second as their lips crashed but soon melted in the kiss.

When they pulled apart, he didn't realise he was crying.

…

Erik peppered soft kisses on Jellal's cheeks and runs his hand on his tattoo, wiping up the tears.

He saw Jellal staring at him, his lips slightly parted, his eyes red and tired and he looked so _open _and _real _than he had ever looked before, and Erik's chest washed with a new feeling.

It wasn't love. They weren't there, yet; neither of them.

They stayed like that for a few moments, letting Jellal calm down and pull together. He waited so that Jellal didn't think that he was saying these words for mere comfort, just because he had exposed himself like this.

Erik stared at him and put a hand to his cheek before saying, "I care for you."

It was so so soft that Jellal's knees weakened at their gentleness. He wanted to cry once again but Erik's face doesn't falter, his gaze resolute and firm and _true_.

In the silence that followed, Erik was almost waiting for the fleeting horror on Jellal's face, the walls building them between them. But neither of them happened.

Jellal leaned in closer, tugging his head under Erik's chin and holding him closer and tighter.

And if it wasn't for Erik's sharp hearing, he would have almost missed the, "Me too," mumbled in his chest.

* * *

**[A/N]:** I spent my time searching for a phrase other than 'I love you' but I found some weird things instead and so I went for the clichéd. These characters are so fucking hard to write, especially Erik.

Meredy is wise. That girl knows shit and you can't tell me otherwise

Anyway, I hope it was okay-ish?

Comments make me happy. I need them.


End file.
